Luna Mea I
by Sarosenna
Summary: What if Harry Potter was written from Luna's perspective? This is exactly what happens here. Meet Luna in a new light as she befriends Harry Potter and his friends, joins the DA against Umbridge and continues on with her usual daily routine, until the battle against the Death Eaters at the Ministry. Includes actual and added scenes with third-person narration.
1. 1)The Hogwarts Express

**Author's note:**

Since we can only ever see everything from Harry's perspective, I decided to create a piece of work from Luna's perspective. As you can see, it's called "Luna Mea" (or "My Moon") and will be the first story in a trilogy. What I attempt to do here is create an aligned story that will follow Luna through Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I will begin when Luna enters the plot and end when she leaves, and add scenes to fill in the plot and get to know her better. The less detailed the books are of Luna's presence, the more freedom I will have with including my own details.

Copyright disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. All rights and ideas belong to J.K. Rowling. If you ever notice ideas being stolen from other authors, please let me know. I will most likely not even be aware of this. This applies for the entire story.

Thankfully, I will be writing from a perspective where it might be a little odd to include references of, say, Star Wars.

* * *

><p>"Hi Luna. Is it okay if we take these seats?"<p>

Luna looked up. In the compartment doorway stood Ginny Weasley, a fourth-year like her, beside a plump, round-faced boy Luna only knew to be a Gryffindor like Ginny-and Harry Potter. Luna stared. She couldn't help it. She only nodded.

She knew Ginny had thanked her, smiling, but she couldn't take her eyes off the dark-haired boy with the lightning scar. He took a seat opposite her, looking uncomfortable.

"Had a good holiday, Luna?" Ginny asked.

"Yes", Luna said, still transfixed, but trying to snap out of this state. "Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You're Harry Potter," she blurted, a little embarrassed at her usual forthrightness.

"I know I am," he answered. Luna detected a definite note of discomfort, and perhaps a little weariness. The other boy chuckled.

Happy to look away from the fifth-year opposite her, she turned to the other one. He was, she noticed, holding a toad. "And I don't know who you are", she added, even blunter. Luna hoped they didn't think she was being impolite.

"I'm nobody", this boy answered. He seemed a little perturbed. But Luna noticed no offence in his expression.

"No, you're not," Luna's classmate said, rather sharply. "Neville Longbottom - Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," Luna almost sang, as she always did when her house was mentioned. Having nothing better to say anymore, she raised her upside-down copy of The Quibbler and continued to read, but her eyes took nothing in. Rather, her ears were tuned to the conversation being spoken beside her.

"Guess what I got for my birthday?" the boy-Neville-asked.

"Not another Remembrall?" Harry Potter guessed. It seemed to be an in joke.

"No. I could do with one, though, I lost the old one ages ago...no, look at this..."

There was some silence as Neville seemed to dig around his luggage. Luna resisted the urge to look.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," Neville said with not a small amount of pride.

What is that? Luna wondered, but held her tongue, and still didn't look up.

"It's really, really rare," Neville continued. "I don't know if there's one in the greenhouse at Hogwarts, even. I can't wait to show it to Professor Sprout. My Great Uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria. I'm going to see if I can breed from it."

"Does it-er-do anything?" his classmate asked.

"Loads of stuff! It's got an amazing defensive mechanism. Here, hold Trevor for me..."

Against her will, Luna looked up. This was quite possibly her most interesting trip on the Hogwarts Express so far, and that included the Dementors searching the train in her second year. Trevor-who was, apparently, the toad-was held in Harry Potter's grasp, as his owner took out a quill and held the Mimbulus mimbletonia-it looked like a small grey cactus with boils with boils rather than spines-and then acquitted one with the other by stabbing his quill into his pot plant.

It immediately gave off what Luna recognised as a vast quantity of Stinksap in a most dramatic-and therefor unpleasant-manner. The dark green, rancid manure-smelling liquid left no inch of the compartment untouched, and only Ginny and Luna had had the hands free to cover their faces-but, Luna found to her annoyance, The Quibbler was now unreadable.

"S-sorry," Nevile gasped. "I haven't tried that before...didn't realise it would be quite so..."

Poor Neville, Luna reflected. She never paid much attention, but what she recalled of Neville (which wasn't a great deal) was a surprising amount of mishaps. He must have to apologise a lot. She wondered how often he apologised when he didn't have to. Before she could form a sympathetic response, Harry Potter spat (not out of rudeness) a mouthful of Stinksap out of his mouth.

"Don't worry though," Neville added nervously. "Stinksap's not poisonous."

That much, Luna knew, was true, but she made a mental reminder to ask her father in her next owl how much Nargles Stinksap could attract. Since she couldn't read her magazine anymore, she stared out of the window. It was rather grey.

The compartment door was opened by Cho Chang, who, Luna recalled, was a Ravenclaw, two years above her, and Seeker for her house Quidditch team. She also remembered her as Cedric Diggory's girlfriend. "Oh...hello, Harry," she said in an unnaturally nervous voice. "Um...bad time?"

"Oh...hi," Harry Potter only said rather blankly.

"Um..." Cho quite literally cast around for convenient conversation subjects, but evidently couldn't find any that would not be rather tactless. "Well...just thought I'd say hello...bye then."

Her now impressively pink face turned away as Cho closed the door and departed, whilst Harry Potter, evidently dejected, slumped back into his seat and groaned. Luna smiled a little.

"Never mind," Ginny now said bracingly. "Look, we can easily get rid of all this. Scourgify!"

Thank you, Ginny, Luna thought with a smile as she returned to the ancient runes section, attempting to decipher this formidable spell (it turned your enemy's ears into kumquats) in the mess of the article. It was almost a little frustrating.

* * *

><p>The compartment door slid open again. This time, it was opened by a boy whose freckled face and blazing red hair identified him as Ginny's brother, and a girl with bushy brown hair that Luna could only remember from seeing in the library (on more than one occasion).<p>

"I'm starving," the boy immediately said once entering the compartment. He seated himself beside Harry Potter and digested a Chocolate Frog's head. His eyes were closed. He seemed thoroughly exhausted.

"Well," the girl said, taking her seat in a disgruntled manner, "there are two fifth-year prefects from each house. Boy and girl each."

"And guess who's a Slytherin prefect?" the boy said, his eyes still closed.

"Malfoy," Harry Potter replied at once.

"Course," the boy said with bitterness and finished a Chocolate Frog, taking another.

"And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson," the girl added with certain viciousness. "How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll..."

"Who are Hufflepuff's?" Harry Potter inquired.

"Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," the boy answered.

"And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw," the girl added.

"You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil," Luna blurted, remembering. And the girl had gone with Viktor Krum. Luna still didn't know her name. Wasn't the boy's name Rolf, or Roland?

The boy in question now stared at her with surprised blue eyes. "Yeah, I know I did."

"She didn't enjoy it much," Luna informed him with suppressed relish. "She doesn't think you treated her very well, because you wouldn't dance with her. I don't think I'd have minded," Luna thoughtfully added, a little embarrassed at blurting that out. "I don't like dancing very much."

Quick, Luna, she said to herself aggressively, don't say another word and hide behind The Quibbler before your mouth runs away with you. She knew she wasn't very good at the casual banter the other five had mastered effortlessly.

"We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often," the boy now told Neville and Harry Potter. "And we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something..."

"You're not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!" the girl remonstrated sharply. Ah, Luna said to herself, that's what is name was.

"Yeah, right, because Malfoy won't abuse it at all," the boy-Ron-retorted with a measure amount of sarcasm.

"So you're going to descend to his level?"

"No, I'm just going to make sure I get to his mates before he gets mine."

The girl sounded exasperated. "For heaven's sake, Ron-"

"I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," Ron visibly fantasised. He mimed an illiterate gorilla looking like he was asked to write out the first sixty numerals of Pi. "I...must...not...look...like...a...baboon's...backside..."

They all laughed, but Luna in particular found this hilarious. It had been a while since someone had made her laugh. She almost fell. When she emerged, gasping, she looked at Ron. "That was funny!"

Tears of laughter swam before her eyes. "Are you taking the mickey?" Ron asked, frowning.

She shook her head. "Baboon's...backside!"

Everyone was looking at her as though she was a lunatic. Everyone but Harry Potter, it turned out. He had picked up The Quibbler from where it had fallen. "Can I borrow this?" he asked with extreme eagerness.

Luna, incapable of speaking more than two syllables at once, nodded. She took two deep, calming breaths, and stared out of the window. After a while, she felt the startled gazes on her turn away, and she watched the Muggle towns pass by, but her ears were once again attuned to the conversations that occurred beside her. The girl with the bushy brown hair, it turned out, was called Hermione, and she, Ginny and Ron and the rest of their family and Harry Potter had spent the summer together. Neville had, on the other hand, spent the holidays with his grandmother. The Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle they had referred to were Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius Malfoy, a former school board member, and his cronies Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, who Luna now could remember bullying people, although they left her alone.

"Anything good in there?" Ron queried, as Harry Potter folded the magazine, an odd expression on his face. It seemed to be amusement, perplexity, astonishment, and faint interest.

"Of course not," Hermione answered for him with scathe so evident Luna snapped to attention, furious. "The Quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that."

Luna glared at the Gryffindor prefect. "Excuse me," she said in the iciest tone she could muster. "My father's the editor."

"I-oh," Hermione blushed. Usually, when people assumed it was family pride, they "forgave" one another. If it was a purchase from complete strangers, they called it "bad taste." Luna didn't know which she detested more. "Well..." Hermione continued, aware she was embarrassing herself further, "it's got some interesting...I mean, it's quite..."

"I'll have it back," Luna demanded. "Thank you," she added, snatching it out of Harry Potter's hands. She riffled back to page fifty-seven and turned it upside down again. She thought that would be the end of the case, but unfortunately for her the compartment door opened and Luna's pale eyes looked into the disdainful visage of Draco Malfoy's.

"What?" Harry Potter challenged with surprising ferocity and aggression.

Malfoy smirked. "Manners, Potter," he drawled threateningly, "or I'll have to give you a detention." At this, his chest puffed out proudly. "You see I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"Yeah," Harry Potter snapped, "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."

His friends laughed. Luna couldn't comprehend the humour. Malfoy's lip curled, but a spark of anger flickered in his strange grey eyes, and his smirk was momentarily displaced. "Tell me," he sneered, "how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione snapped.

Malfoy appraised her, tense and upright as she was. "I seem to have touched a nerve," he noted. "Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line."

"Get out!" Hermione commanded in return, standing as she did so.

With not a small amount of sniggering, Malfoy gave Harry Potter a final malicious glance before departing with Crabbe and Goyle in his wake. Luna boiled with inexplicable rage. She watched Harry Potter and Hermione exchange significantly nervous glances, and made up her mind. She left the compartment, the door closing firmly behind her.

It being the last carriage, there was only the bathrooms to one side of them. Thankfully, the girls' bathroom was vacant. Before Luna entered, however, she turned and watched Draco Malfoy's swaggering back further along the corridor, and she seethed. How dare he, to come in and goad in such a manner! How dare this intruder abuse his undeserved position in such a manner!

Resolutely enraged, Luna took her wand out from behind her left ear. She quickly double-checked to see if the bathroom door obscured her from view. This wouldn't satisfy her fury, but it might pacify it a little. Besides, it would be amusing to watch. She smiled grimly and pointed her wand at Malfoy's sleekly blond head. "Aguamenti," she murmured.

There was a yelp from Malfoy and a small amount of titters nearby. She watched in self-satisfaction as the back of his school robes was now drenched in a good deal of ice-cold water. He pirouetted in mid-air, looking for the culprit.

Luna slammed the door behind her.

* * *

><p>It was raining as the Hogwarts Express slowed to a halt at Hogsmeade Station. Ron and Hermione, as prefects, were to oversee the traditional reassembling of luggage, and thus left again, also leaving behind Hermione's cat and Ron's owl. "I'll carry that owl," Luna offered eagerly to Harry Potter, as Neville stowed away Trevor, "if you like."<p>

"Oh-" Harry Potter began, startled, handing her the cage, "er-thanks."

The shuffle out of the compartment separated Luna from Neville, Ginny and Harry Potter, and so she only had the owl for familiar company. He was a troublemaker, it seemed. Throughout the journey, he had been the cause of almost all rackets that happened in the compartment. From what Luna had gathered, as an observer, was that his name was Pig. She should ask Ginny what his proper name was. She also wondered whether he was actually used for sending letters. Surely not, though Ron seemed to have little tolerance for the lovely thing. But surely even Ron wouldn't be so cruel as to send "Pig" off with letters to his friends. He appeared to be incapable to carry a parchment of standard density and size.

The rain stung Luna's cheeks as she exited the train and moved along with the crowd, and she immersed her senses in this familiar situation, the night wet and dark, the student body, reasonably nourished on snacks yet eager for the feast in the Great Hall jostling forward, pressing in around her, for once forgetting that she was Loony Lovegood and not shunning her, but rather steering her forward towards Hogwarts. There were voices, apologies, thanks, banter and the call "First-years line up over here, please! All first-years to me!"

Luna's attention was now singularly focused on the owner of that brisk female voice. This was unusual. She had gotten so used to Hagrid's presence at the station that Professor Grubbly-Plank's excited thoughts. Where was Hagrid? If Professor Grubbly-Plank was here, did that mean that she would be taking Care of Magical Creatures in his stead? Not that Luna minded, she had only managed to cover barely two creatures last year, and Flobberworms (for an unprepared class, Luna assumed) had been extremely dull and the Blast-Ended Skrewts (that ridiculous whole-school project) had been utterly terrifying. Luna stroked "Pig" who hooted merrily. He was gorgeous, cute thing, and Luna resisted the impulse to take him as her own.

Instead, she kept an eye out for his carer. There was a surprising shortage of the combination of flaming red hair and freckled skin, but Luna noticed several auburn heads, a red curly head next to Cho Chang's, and two identical seventh-years with the exact same description (If they're Weasleys too, Luna said to herself, how many are there altogether?) walking side-by-side beside that Gryffindor who always took the commentary for Quidditch matches. At last, she found Ron again, talking to Harry Potter and that Hermione, who was taking her cat back from Ginny. Moments later, "Pig's" owner shouted something to Hermione and Ginny, who headed for a vacant coach, Ron and Harry Potter trailing behind, still talking. Luna caught up with them. "Here you are," she said, relieved, then addressed Ron whilst handing over "Pig's" cage. "He's a sweet little owl, isn't he?"

"Er...yeah..." Ron gruffly began formulating a response, "he's all right," he finally managed, then immediately changed the subject. "Well, come on then, let's get in...what were you saying, Harry?"

"I was saying," Harry Potter continued, as they approached the newly occupied (by Ginny and Hermione) coach, "what are those horse things?"

Luna and Ron turned towards Harry Potter, perplexed. "What horse things?" Ron asked.

"The horse things pulling the carriages!" Harry Potter explained, now seeming a little impatient. Of course, Luna realised, he's never seen a Thestral before.

Ron, however, could not see the Thestrals. He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about-look!"

Luna continued onwards as Harry Potter whirled Ron around to be face-to-face with the Thestral. It won't do any good, she wanted to say. Harry Potter still wasn't comprehending this. Which, of course, was natural, given that the Thestral closest to them was a mere three feet away. Luna wanted to laugh, but wondered when she should intervene. Ron was staring at nothing, and visibly so. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"At the-" Harry Potter began, but Luna knew that he would reach the conclusion soon, "there, between the shafts! Harnessed to the coach! It's right there in front-"

He stopped. Luna was relieved to see the realisation in his eyes. "Can't...can't you see them?"

Ron was by now truly bemused. "See what?"

"Can't you see what's pulling the carriages?"

Alarm began to creep over Ron's face. "Are you feeling all right, Harry?"

Luna tensed. She remembered her second year, when she saw the Thestrals for the first time. Are you okay, Luna? You're seeing things, Luna. There's nothing there! Nothing's pulling the carriage, Luna. It's pulling itself, as always. Are you sure you're okay? There wasn't anything in your lunch, was there? Oh, you didn't eat? Could that be it? Did you have any serious accidents on the holidays?

She'd insisted that she was fine, that those weird things were right in front of their noses, but the only thing they'd been convinced of was her questionable mental state. She remembered Collin Creevey whisper to his friend, "She's gone loopy." He'd laughed and called her a lunatic and a madwoman and inspired the nickname "Loony". Of course, none of her classmates were as close to her as Ron was to Harry Potter. The boy who was seeing Thestrals now only weakly managed "I...yeah..." and Ron forgot the matter, shrugging.

"Shall we go in, then?" Ron asked his friend, although he was clearly still worried.

Luna took one more step towards Harry Potter as Ron began entering the coach. "It's all right," she reassured him. "You're not going mad or anything. I can see them, too."

"Can you?" Harry Potter asked desperately.

"Oh, yes," Luna answered sympathetically. "I've been able to see them ever since my first day here. They've always pulled the carriages. Don't worry. You're just as sane as I am."

Luna smiled faintly at Harry Potter as she entered the coach, but she felt a little pang of hurt at the expression he'd attempted to hide from her. Clearly, her last comment hadn't been reassuring.


	2. 2)The Feast

**Author's note:**

The last chapter was Luna's perspective from page 168 (when she's introduced to the storyline) to page 180 (the end of the chapter). The next chapter is Luna's perspective on Chapter Eleven "The Sorting Hat's New Song", though she leaves the storyline on page 182 and resurfaces in a sentence on page 192. It is, once again, actually correct when it comes to the character's actions, but merely talks about Luna's interpretations of them. Involves an article from _The Quibbler_ you can find on page 174, which fights for attention during Umbridge's speech.

* * *

><p>Luna tried to veil the hurt she felt at Harry Potter's reaction to her statement. He didn't mention the Thestrals again, but Luna noticed him glance at the reptilian silhouettes outside the window every so often. Clearly, he was thinking he was insane, or worse. Proof that he wasn't alone in seeing things didn't make him believe that he wasn't.<p>

"Did everyone see that Grubbly-Plank woman?" Ginny asked.

Luna refocused on the conversation. She hadn't been able to finish _The Quibbler_ yet, and therefor kept it on her, but she felt no urge to turn back to it any time soon, so she decided she could at least contribute to the discussion.

"What's she doing back here?" Ginny continued. "Hagrid can't have left, can he?"

"I'll be quite glad if he has," Luna piped up. "He isn't a very good teacher, is he?"

"Yes, he is!" Harry Potter, Ron and Ginny retorted automatically.

Hermione was silent, earning her a glare from Harry Potter. Noticing it, she cleared her throat and quickly added, "Erm...yes...he's very good."

"Well, we in Ravenclaw think he's a bit of a joke," Luna ploughed on. It wasn't difficult to notice the bias in her companion's opinions.

"You've got a rubbish sense of humour then," Ron snapped angrily.

Luna turned to him, but privately decided that continuing to take part in this discussion would only antagonise her classmates further. Ron, in particular, seemed increasingly capable of humiliating her.

He was, Luna knew, the youngest son in a pureblood family. The Lovegoods and the Weasleys never interacted much, but Luna remembered, faintly, that his mother was a kindly woman, and his father, she recalled him mentioning at one point, was Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department. Despite this, Luna remembered the family to be rather poor. She had heard that the entire family was famous for every single member being Sorted into Gryffindor, and she knew the family to be large, though how large she didn't know. She'd heard that they were recognisable by the flaming red hair, the freckles and second-hand possessions, which both Ginny and Ron shared. Whereas Ginny's eyes were brown, however, Ron's were blue, and whereas Ginny was rather small for her age, Ron was rather tall. Ron also possessed an extraordinary insensitivity, a trait that singled him out from his friends. Hermione was perceptive, to a certain degree. Harry Potter, at least, had an eye for identifying something wrong in the situation. Ron, on the other hand, was humorous, almost boisterously so, but blind.

Luna pitied him a little for it. It seemed a disability beside his friends.

She turned away, and looked towards the castle that had become her home in the past few years, and would once again be so shortly. The carriages rattled away smoothly past the winged boars that guarded the gates to the intimidating school. The turrets loomed ever closer, and the windows soon exposed the torchlit corridors. Very soon, Luna identified the tall Astronomy and Ravenclaw towers, and her keen eyes picked out the Quidditch pitch in the darkness.

The carriages halted before the stone steps that led to the oak front doors. Luna eagerly leapt up, but it was Harry Potter who stepped out first. She soon followed him, and covertly noticed him glance hopefully to Hagrid's dark hut, then turn to the Thestrals, clearly wishing they were gone, adding more hurt to Luna's enigmatic emotions.

"Are you coming or what?" Ron asked impatiently.

"Oh...yeah," Harry Potter answered hastily, and together they joined their fellow pupils.

Luna ignored the three friends as she cut through the masses that crossed the Entrance Hall and entered the Great Hall to the right. Just like at Hogsmeade Station, the crowd jostled forward, pressing her in from all directions, but there was a scrutiny here that had been difficult to attain in the darkness. Students formed their cliques, if they hadn't already, and Loony Lovegood was given a berth as wide as possible. _At least it means you have the freedom to move_, Luna reminded herself, attempting to suppress the bitterness inside her, but it stuck to her with a Permanent Sticking Charm.

The Great Hall was as majestic as ever, Luna recognised. The torches were ablaze and their light was reflected by the polished cutlery on the four mahogany tables. The floating candles were brighter than usual, and their light was honeyed orbs against the starless sky, which mimicked the actual night sky. Luna observed the actual sky outside, and thought that it reflected her emotions better than the ceiling reflected the weather. Indecisive, but firmly damp, with a wind whistling at the windows. It was partly caused by her trip to the school, but mostly caused by the glances she received by her fellow students. They shuffled over or mentioned something about saving seats for someone else when she approached, but Luna finally had the misfortune to find an empty seat two seats away from Cho Chang and her friends. The two seats that separated the Ravenclaw oddity from some of the school's most popular sixth-years were soon filled by the newly made prefect Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner, with Terry Boot taking a seat opposite her. "Hey, Loony," Terry greeted her, whereas Anthony and Michael ignored her, looking repulsed.

"Hello, Terry," Luna greeted in return. "Did you have a nice summer?"

"It was all right," Terry answered with a shrug. "At least, it wasn't spent _fishing for Freshwater Plimpies_."

Anthony and Michael sniggered, but Luna did not see the humour or insult of Terry's statement, and merely turned away just as the doors to the Great Hall opened. Professor McGonagall led the long line of pale first-years to the stool in front of the staff table, and placed the Sorting Hat on the stool.

Luna sat up, straighter; ever since last year, she had come to regard the Sorting Hat's songs as a kind of omen, and she made sure to listen closely, and commit it to memory. She was the only one this alert to the Sorting Hat's song, but still the entire school awaited it eagerly. The Sorting Hat kept the suspense for few seconds, then the brim opened like a mouth and it burst into song:

_In times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted:_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world's best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

This much, Luna knew already, was fact, but she did question whether the founder's goals had been so ambitious. Perhaps Hogwarts had begun out of a questioning of Britain's educational system, or perhaps the lack of it. Luna presumed that, before Hogwarts, children were merely homeschooled, or tutored, but she also wondered what would happen to Muggle-borns. Were they ever found by the wizarding world? Or, after a series of unfortunate displays of magic, did they ever end a short life by "witch-burning" (Luna recalled the term from _A History of Magic_), or did they manage to escape this fate and live their lives on the run? According to Professor Binns (Luna paid attention to him; her father had taught her to), such records could never be found. The Sorting Hat continued on.

_"Together we will build and teach!"_

_The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might some day be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere_

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

The Sorting Hat always maundered on about the unity of the founders, Luna recalled. Whether it had actually been there, she questioned, but there was a certain ring of truth to the tale anyway. The Sorting Hat was, after all, ancient, and certain artefacts of these times remained at large, from what she knew, though they were known to vanish occasionally. From what her father had told her, for example, the Deathly Hallows had remained at large from some centuries before Hogwarts and been known to reappear a good time later. She had been told that the legend of the Elder Wand had ended some time in the eighteenth century. It was a possibility that the Sorting Hat had actually been Godric Gryffindor's. His sword was still in this very castle, after all.

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry is purest."_

_Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name."_

_Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same."_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light,_

_For each of the four founders had_

_A house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_

_For instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_

_And taught them all she knew,_

_Thus the houses and their founders_

_Retained friendship firm and true._

Of course, for the first-year's benefit, the Sorting Hat had to explain to those who didn't know by now what the houses were, but for story-tale measure, it had decided this year to explain the ideals of the founders. Luna doubted this to be actually what happened. It was a testament to their character, naturally, but too firm. She always imagined long nights after Hogwarts had been built (which also came to her interest; Hogwarts had seven floors and far too many secret passageways, how could the founders still be alive and not of retirement age when it was complete?) spent discussing the curriculum, the rules, the punishments. She imagined a good decade before the school was officially opened.

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years,_

_But then the discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears._

_The houses that, like pillars four,_

_Had once held up the school,_

_Now turned upon each other and,_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end,_

_What with duelling and with fighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted._

_Leaving a Basilisk to slumber beneath the lake, no less_, Luna added with her strange sense of humour. _He always needed another option, of a sort._ She too well remembered the air of fear in her first year, when her father had considered sending her back home, and only after a dozen furious owls (and another dozen Howlers) did he reconsider. She herself had been terrified, because even then she had been an outcast. She had been a good deal more frightened than most people, forced to walk the corridors alone, for she had been of the opinion that the fact that all victims were Muggle-born was a coincidence. After all, a cat and the Gryffindor ghost had also been attacked, and the same applied for Ginny Weasley, a pureblood. _Perhaps it's because the corridors were empty_, she remembered thinking, as she walked another empty corridor, petrified but thankfully not yet Petrified. That had been Slytherin's fault, and she wondered whether the other founders had actually been downhearted, or merely relieved that a threat to the school was gone.

_And never since the founders four_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_Proof of my theory, Luna added wryly._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score:_

_I sort you into houses_

_Because that is what I'm for,_

_But this year I'll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfil my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether Sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble from within_

_I have told you, I have warned you..._

_Let the Sorting now begin._

Luna applauded the Hat for its new song, as everyone did, but she noticed the concern flicking across expressions. "That was cheerful," Terry remarked sarcastically to Anthony and Michael.

"It was quite possibly the most cheerful warning we can get," Luna replied in the place of Terry's mates.

"What's that supposed to-"

"Careful," Luna warned, interrupting Terry's question, and she indicated towards Professor McGonagall, who was now giving the students an evil eye.

"Abercrombie, Euan."

One of the more terrified first-years stumbled towards the Hat and put it on. The Hat considered the boy for a moment, then shouted:

"Gryffindor!"

Gryffindor clapped happily for their new recruit, but poor Euan merely appeared to wish for ways to never become visible again.

Luna mused over the Sorting Hat's song as the subject in question Sorted the first-years to one of the four tables. At last, she reached the conclusion to write the Sorting Hat's song down before she went to bed, just as Rose Zeller was declared a Hufflepuff, and the Sorting Hat and stool were whisked away by Professor McGonagall as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"To our newcomers," the Headmaster said, beaming around the Great Hall, arms outstretched and voice ringing, "welcome! To our old hands-welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

Luna laughed a little and clapped as Professor Dumbledore sat down again, throwing his beard over his shoulder to avoid it falling on his plate, and turned her attention to the feast in front of her. Around her, others were doing the same, but with less eagerness than she was. They had eaten on the train, it seemed. She handed herself to some meatballs and mashed potatoes, just as Terry opposite her asked, "So, what did you mean, earlier?"

Luna looked at him, startled. Usually, people didn't address her unless she addressed them first, but it wasn't often people wanted to finish a conversation with her. "Well," she began slowly, recollecting her train of thought as she helped herself to peas and carrots, "everyone is warning us right now, aren't they? The Sorting Hat, Harry Potter, Professor Dumbledore..."

"You think they're all warning us of the same thing?" Terry now almost interrogated her sceptically. "I mean, I know Potter and Dumbledore are, but that's rubbish, right?"

"You only think it rubbish," Luna pointed out, "because the Ministry is telling you it-"

"Wait," Terry interrupted. "The Ministry? It's the _Daily Prophet_ that's telling us everything's fine."

"The _Daily Prophet_ reports information from the Ministry, though," Luna continued, "but the Sorting Hat telling us this as well-" she broke off, frowning. "That can't be coincidental."

"Well, not exactly coincidental, is it?" Terry pointed out. "It lives in Dumbledore's office, doesn't it?"

"True," Luna conceded, "but Professor Dumbledore has a number of reliable sources."

"Are you sure? Because it seems to me that he's become biased, these days. I mean, him trusting his favourite student and all-"

"He does have a dead body in his favour," Luna answered, now a little cooly. "Whereas the Ministry has no proof explaining Cedric Diggory's death. They say it was a _tragic accident_, whereas Harry Potter is telling us it was murder, and, if willing to speak about it, could quite possibly give you a great deal of detail. The Ministry, on the other hand, is telling us it was a foolish mistake on the part of the teachers. How? The Triwizard Tournament was designed by quite possibly the brightest mind in Europe. They took every chance for it to be safe. But then Harry Potter Portkeyed out of the maze with Cedric Diggory's body. There should have been an inquiry about it. There is not a single possibility that transforming the Cup into a Portkey was a part of the third task. All the teachers were supervising at Hogwarts. You must have seen them. And I can't tell you about a Tournament with four champions. It would never have been done. It would have been far too dishonourable. May I please have the gravy?"

Terry handed her the gravy, quiet, mulling over her argument. "I talked to Susan Bones on the train," he said finally, "she said Potter had broken the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statue of Secrecy _again_. Her aunt interrogated him."

Luna choked on some peas. "Pardon?"

"He did a Patronus Charm in the presence of a Muggle."

"Do you know who the Muggle is?" Luna asked.

"I think the Muggle was Potter's cousin," Terry answered, frowning. "I don't get why they're so worried about that bit. I mean-Potter's cousin-he must know about the wizarding world."

Luna waved this aside. "What happened?"

"There was a full trial with the Wizengamot. He got away with it. Dumbledore showed up, backed up his story about Dementors-"

"_Dementors_?" Luna asked, horrified.

"Yes, are you listening?" Terry asked impatiently.

"All too well," Luna said, swallowing some mashed potatoes.

"Right," Terry continued, disgruntled. "Anyway, Dumbledore showed up, procured some witness-"

"Who? Not Harry Potter's cousin?"

"No-some Squib neighbour, I think-only Potter's broken the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery before, and he got away with it again, because of Dumbledore. I heard he blew up his aunt once, did you know?"

"_Blew up his aunt_?" Luna repeated, dumbfounded. "But-that's far too complex-it must've been a couple of summers back-it must've been out-of-control magic-are you _sure_ this is after first year?"

"I'm sure," Terry replied, confident. "Mind, I heard Potter's relatives are terrible."

"Well, I think that clears that bit up," Luna answered, dismissing the matter, and helped herself to a second serving.

* * *

><p>Once dessert was over, Luna waited expectantly for Professor Dumbledore's speech. He finally rose, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silver stars and a matching hat, as the noise level crept up again.<p>

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast," Professor Dumbledore began, blue eyes twinkling merrily, "I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students-and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too. Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door." (_Because we all want to go near the office_, Luna sarcastically thought.)

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a short round of polite but fairly not delighted applause, and Luna observed her new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. She was a squat, short, curly brown-haired person, with a pallid, toad-like face and prominent pouchy eyes. She wore a pink Alice band that matched with a fluffy pink cardigan that covered her robes. She looked like a maiden aunt.

"Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the-"

He broke off with an enquiring glance towards Professor Umbridge, ensuing confusion around the room. It took Luna some time to understand that she, too, had risen to her feet. She cleared her throat with a sickly sweet "_Hem, hem_", clearly intending to make a speech.

Professor Dumbledore appeared taken aback for a moment, then sat down smartly.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge began, simpering, "for those kind words of welcome."

She cleared her throat once more and smiled. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking up at me! I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

Once again, she cleared her throat, looking down at the unimpressed students, and continued in a far more businesslike manner.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique..."

As her new teacher drilled on, Luna took out _The Quibbler_ from underneath her robes and began reading the first article she saw, which was concerning Cornelius Fudge and his abuse of goblins, and not very fascinating, but still. It was better than this drivel.

_Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, denied that he had any plans to take over the running..._

"...down the generations lest we..."

_...of the Wizarding Bank, Gringotts, when he was elected as Minister for Magic..._

"...The trove of magical knowledge..."

_...five years ago. Fudge has..._

"_Hem, hem_. Ever headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts..."

_...always insisted that he wants nothing more than to..._

"...progress for progress's sake must be discouraged..."

_..."co-operate peacefully" with..._

"...A balance, then, between..."

_...the guardians of our gold..._

"...permanence and..."

_...BUT DOES HE?..._

"...trading and innovation..."

_...Sources close to the Minister have recently disclosed that Fudge's dearest ambition is to seize control of the goblin gold supplies and that he will not hesitate to use force if need be..._

"...because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the..."

_..."It wouldn't be the first time, either," said a Ministry insider. "Cornelius 'Goblin-Crusher' Fudge, that's what-_

Luna closed the article. Even this wasn't blocking out the speech.

"...intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfect what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

Professor Dumbledore clapped, amongst some unenthusiastic teachers, and very few students. The headmaster rose to his feet again.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating. Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held..."

"That bad, huh?" Terry smirked at her. "Not even _The Quibbler_ can block it out."

"It sounded like one of Binns's goblin rebellions," Anthony said, quite honestly.

"No, it was worse," Luna responded, and leapt to her feet, since Professor Dumbledore had just dismissed them. The three boys joined her on her way to the Ravenclaw common room.

"Well, it had some interesting bits to it, didn't it?" Terry asked.

"It sounded like she learnt it in a manual," Luna replied. "I do hope her classes won't be as bad as that...'progress for progress's sake must be discouraged'...'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited'...I would like to know how she ever got the profession."

"Courage," Terry answered, making Michael snort. "Only one to take on the job...it's jinxed, we all know that."

"And how many of us will be upset when she's gone?" Michael asked. "_You_, Loony?"

Luna shuddered. "Don't talk like that. What happened to Professor Lockhart was _awful_-"

"He deserved it, though, didn't he?" Anthony interjected. "Right old fraud..."

"Our first Defence against the Dark Arts teacher worked for You-Know-Who," Michael put in darkly, talking to Luna.

"That's right," Terry added, "didn't he die down in the dungeons?"

"Wasn't Potter involved-"

"What is the greatest threat to a life?" the bronze door-knocker asked.

"For a warrior, his opponent, for a wife, her husband's interest, for a child, his adventures, for the bravest, his fear," Luna answered. She had discovered a while ago that it accepted any answer that wasn't "I don't know."

The door swung open, admitting the four Ravenclaws. "Night, Loony," Anthony bid her for his friends.

Luna smiled and took her leave, and entered the fourth-year girl's dormitory. She had a window-side bed this time, she noticed. She took out a quill and parchment and went back down to the common room. It was empty, now.

Luna took her place by the fireplace and pointed her wand at the fireplace, murmuring "_Incendio_."

She briefly chronicled the Sorting Hat's new song, but when she was finished, her exhaustion was such that she fell asleep, lethargic in the armchair.


End file.
